


To Be Close to Each Other

by plotweaver



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plotweaver/pseuds/plotweaver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Resistance celebrates a hard won victory, but someone appears to be left out. Poe's not having any of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Close to Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> I can't resist a good "dancing together for the first time" fic.

Poe's vision swirled as he left the center of the room. He laughed as a few of the pilots on the edge of the dance floor clapped him on the back. Someone pressed a cold drink into his hands, and he eagerly took a sip. Happy voices and stomping feet blended together with the music, and Poe could not remember the last time he had seen members of the Resistance look so happy. It was a night for celebration. A well-earned victory and a much needed reprieve before the final push to quell the First Order began.

Poe found a relatively unoccupied corner of the room and leaned against the wall, taking in the sight. BB-8 danced circles around R2 and C-3PO. The din of the room was rather loud, but Poe swore he heard R2 squawk his disapproval before spilling some oil from one of his compartments to send the smaller droid spinning. Rey sat sandwiched between Chewbacca and General Organa. Rey never seemed too far from the wookie these days, which was a good thing, because he seemed to be making both women smile. Neither Rey nor the general were the same after the destruction of the Starkiller base, but some of the tension left their shoulders as Chewie threw his head back and called loudly. His squadron had never looked so happy. Two cadets twirled around each other, laughing. Everyone in the room had a smile.

So Finn stood out like a sore thumb.

He stood a few feet down the wall that Poe leaned against, hands loose at his sides. Finn's brow was wrinkled in a look of open confusion. Poe gently pushed himself off the wall and walked over.

"You all right?"

Finn started. Poe fought to suppress his laughter as Finn looked from him to the dance floor. He looked like a kid caught looking at a racy holo show. 

"Yeah," Finn finally managed. "I'm just, uh, watching." He said it like a question, like he was asking if it was okay. Poe nodded.

"You gonna join them?" Poe tilted his head toward the dancers. 

"What? Them? Oh, no. No."

Poe shrugged, took a sip of his drink, and leaned against the wall once more. Finn's expression smoothed, but Poe had been studying his face often enough in the past few weeks to know that he was feigning indifference. His eyes were just a little too intense, his lips pressing together a little too tightly. 

"Well don't hurt yourself, buddy."

Finn's head snapped over to him once more. "Huh?"

Poe smiled. Finn had no idea how to dampen his emotions. When he was disappointed, his expression crumbled and he sulked. When he was hyped, he crowed into the air and beat his chest. When he was confused, he jerked around wildly, searching for answers. Poe could only imagine the tight lid the First Order kept on any distinguishing aspects of its soldiers, like emotion. So seeing Finn finally learning how to express himself did painful, but not altogether unpleasant, things in Poe's chest.

"You look like you're trying to figure out the best way to lead a happabore away from water," Poe said.

"No, uh..." Finn's gaze dropped to the floor. "It's just, uh, I don't know what that is." He nodded toward the entire scene of revelry laid out before them.

"The celebration? Finn, we won today." Poe lightly settled his arm around him.

Poe tried to minimize his physical contact with Finn. Really, he did. Ever since he saw Finn flinch when a gunner raised her arm to high five him, Poe realized that the only touches Finn had known were those necessary for combat and restraint. He needed time to adjust to the casual touches of a comrade clasping his shoulder after a job well done, or the embrace of a friend after a long battle. 

But Finn looked so lost, staring out at the happy Resistance Army. Poe's hands went numb and his stomach clenched and instinct took over. He needed Finn closer, needed to banish the lines of worry and confusion from his face. Finn didn't seem to mind.

"No, that's not what I'm talking about. I get the happiness," Finn said, "and the eating and drinking. But, I don't know what that is."

He pointed with his hand this time, specifically at the dance floor. Comprehension hit Poe like a blaster to the gut.

_Dancing. He doesn't know what dancing is._

It was heartbreaking, is what it was. Those bastard First Order goons didn't let them dance? Had Finn even heard music before?

Under his arm, Poe felt Finn's shoulders tense. He had been silent a moment too long.

"It's something people do when they're happy," Poe said. "Sometimes people do it to be close to each other. To move together."

Finn turned to look at him, and Poe could see what a brilliant brown Finn's eyes were. They were gorgeous and intense and so very, very close. Poe found his voice again just before he became utterly lost in their closeness.

"I could show you. You know, if you wanted."

"What? That?" Finn pointed at the dancers. Poe nodded. He would've smiled if the whole thing wasn't so sad.

"I'll take it easy on you," Poe said, trying to lighten the mood. "I promise."

He took a step back from Finn and held one hand out in the space between them, palm up. 

Finn hesitated, but eventually placed his hand in Poe's. Poe smiled and gently led him to the dance floor.

Couples whirled past them, but they were nothing but a flicker at the edge of Poe's vision. He had eyes only for the man on his arm. Poe turned to face him, placed his empty hand on Finn's hip, and began swaying them to the rapid rhythm of the music. Finn stumbled and Poe caught him, increasing his hold on his hip to better guide him through the music.

"Sorry," Poe said. "Didn't mean to start you on a fast one."

Finn didn't seem to share Poe's breezy attitude. "I don't know what to do! Everybody's staring-"

"Try to relax. Mirror my movements." Poe guided Finn in a tentative circle around the dance floor. They started slow, slightly off beat, but when Poe felt Finn relax under his hands, he sped up. There were no steps, no prearranged standard of dance to the songs the Resistance were playing on their battered instruments. The music existed to inspire celebration and movement. As long as those two criteria were being satisfied, it was impossible for Poe and Finn to stand out.

Of course, that wouldn't have even mattered after the first few revolutions around the dance floor. Poe possessed an innate grace. He knew how to move around others and how to guide others to move around him with a wonderful ease. It was a skill especially handy in the air, when he needed to direct his troops in all directions around multiple targets. It was also a skill that happened to extend quite naturally to dancing. Once Finn caught on to the rhythm, Poe knew exactly how to guide them through flying across the room. 

Poe spun Finn out, never letting go of his hand, before tugging him close again. Finn laughed, and Poe felt a soaring in his chest. He briefly wondered how much he'd have to bribe the musicians to play this song forever. 

The beating rhythm finally gave way to a slower one. Finn glanced around, momentarily lost at this change of pace. Poe reached out automatically, desperate to wipe the lost look off of Finn's face. He pulled Finn in close, until their chests were touching. Something fluttered in between them, and Poe couldn't tell if it was his own pounding heart or Finn's.

"What's going on?" Finn said. Despite the wariness in his voice, he leaned into Poe's hold instead of trying to escape it. 

"Just a slower song."

"Why?"

Poe guided Finn's hands to where they needed to be: one on Poe's shoulder, one in Poe's leading hand. He began to sway them across the floor in careful, elegant steps. 

"People sometimes do it to be close to each other." Poe dipped his head toward Finn, not taking his eyes off him for even a moment. "Remember?" 

It must have been a flicker of light, Poe reasoned, but for a second, he thought he saw Finn's eyes widen. No trick of light, no magic of music could be held responsible for Finn's next action, however. Finn tilted his head forward until it rested against Poe's. 

"Like this?" Finn asked.

Poe was immensely grateful that Finn had closed his eyes, because there was no way in hell that he would have been able to keep the shock and pleasure off of his face. It was through sheer miracle alone that he had not faltered in guiding them through the dance. 

Finn had been trained all his life to never trust anyone. He had been trained to sleep with one eye open, to not form attachments based on mutual trust. He was raised without knowing the comfort of touch, without knowing affection. The First Order had hammered into him the importance of never giving up the possibility of vulnerability, never giving tenderness, never giving closeness. 

And yet, in mere moments, he had surrendered all of this to Poe. 

For a few moments, Poe could do nothing but remain in awe of the utter trust of the man in his arms. But finally, blissfully, he allowed his own eyes to shut. He pressed back ever so slightly with his forehead, gently acknowledging the touch.

"Yes," Poe said. "Like this."

They swayed a little less, more caught up in each other than in the music, but Poe maintained their balletic course even with his eyes closed.

And if he got some teasing comments from his squad for being the lovesick dancing teacher the next day, it was more than worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo, this may or may not be (but definitely IS) my first attempt at a stormpilot fic. I'd love to hear what you think in the comments. It takes two seconds to write a comment, but it keeps me happy for so much longer!
> 
> You can always find me at plotweaver.tumblr.com! Come talk to me about these nerds.


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